Aegis
by J.R. Vegas
Summary: Velstadt's mind is torn, as his time guarding Vendrick has eroded away at him, for now hatred fills his heart.


Author's Note: Sorry I haven't been working on updating Iron Souls as of late! Whenever I'd want to, I'd be thinking, "Yeah! I'm gonna continue that story where Caithas derps his way through Larandal, wa-hey!" But nope, DLC hype hits me square in the face and dries me up of any imagination that I need to work on it. DAMN. So, of course, I decided to scrawl down this little one-shot of one of my favorite bosses, Velstadt, as he simmers in his own mind. As the DLC released today (and I did complete it, killing all 3 bosses as well. Goddamn optional boss being all lame and easy, grumble grumble grump,) I will be getting back to work on Iron Souls very soon.

But, in any case...

* * *

The king.

His king.

The man who had sworn to follow to the ends of the earth had long since worn out and become Hollow ever since they and their entourage of Syan Knights had trekked to the Undead Crypt for the purpose of keeping the king, Vendrick, away from the woman, the _monster _that yearned for the Throne of Want, yearned for the First Flame.

Nashandra. That _wretch_. She had come from a faraway land, warning Vendrick of the dangers of the distant Giants. Of course, there was no wrong with them – or so Velstadt believed – but Vendrick fell to the wiles of the mysterious woman and invaded the land of the Giants, attacking them, subduing them, and then claiming a prize that was never to be revealed to anyone outside of Vendrick's own inner circle.

This, of course, only angered the Giants, who then crossed the seas from a land far away and attacked Drangleic, fighting for the prize that which Vendrick had taken from them. They had been on the verge of winning when a mysterious hero had defeated their Lord, bringing their lightning offensive to a grinding halt, and that figure single-handedly saved Drangleic from destruction.

Of course, the damage had been done. When Vendrick gained the power to peer into souls, he had looked into the soul of his betrothed, Nashandra, and saw _pure and utter dark_ in that soul. The beautiful woman he loved (_WRETCH_, Velstadt cried out in his warped mind) was a beast, a prisoner of desire, a captive of want. Vendrick learned then that she wanted the First Flame, that she sought to claim the First Flame, so he created a series of trials, including doors opened only by his ring, the King's Ring. He took it with him to the Crypt, leaving it to be guarded by Velstadt and the Syan Knights.

The Royal Aegis groaned, even as he stood stock still in his chamber, his massive bell-hammer clutched in his two-hands. Raime. Raime, that rebel who had vehemently disagreed with him, only to be branded a traitor. What had happened to him, Velstadt remembered not, but he was stubborn in his belief that perhaps he personally executed Raime. Left arm of the king? To Velstadt, Raime had been a defective arm at that.

The soldier's mind drifted to the many who tried to pass him by, yearning to claim the King's Ring, yearning for what he knew was the Throne. They were lead and lured by Nashandra to try to kill him, if only to steal what was Vendrick's. His life would never be taken in exchange for a damnable wish by that

(_**WRETCH, THAT USELESS PRISONER OF WANT! THAT BEAST, THAT MONSTER, THAT ALMIGHTY HORROR**_)

woman that Vendrick had once loved.

Velstadt's mind was ripped away from his musing, his black hatred of Nashandra, by the sound of clashing outside. Yet another fool decieved by Nashandra had come to claim the King's Ring. Yet another fool was unprepared for the fate before him in the form of the tall, gold-clad warrior. Velstadt, the Royal Aegis, was ready. He would always be ready.

A man with a white longcoat passed through the archway filled with fog. The figure wore a longskirt that reached to his ankles, and Velstadt could see the black sandals on his feet. The helm the fool wore covered the majority of his face, sans his mouth and nose. A white beard clung to his chin, flowing slightly. The man's mouth opened, and he said, "I am Wicker the Swift, and I am come for the ring of Vendrick." The bizarre-looking man drew a katana, which the Royal Aegis scoffed at internally. Such a little weapon, effective against _him_, the lone soldier?

Velstadt said nought, but instead swung his massive bell-hammer into a fighting position, clutching it in one hand, as if to show off his massive strength. Another fool had come to claim the ring; another fool had come to die. They had come to die in the name of Velstadt's king.

The king.

Vendrick.


End file.
